


Rules of Engagement: Advance

by White Aster (white_aster)



Series: Rules of Engagement [2]
Category: Suikoden III
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-11-04
Updated: 2003-11-04
Packaged: 2017-10-03 03:33:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/white_aster/pseuds/White%20Aster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Albert stared at him, eyes narrowed. Yuber never gave up a chance at battle. That, obviously, wasn't what this was about. He gritted his teeth. "What do you want? And you've picked a damned bad time to renegotiate, by the way."</p><p>"On the contrary. Since I'm the only one who can save this sorry excuse for a battle, I think it's the perfect time." Yuber turned to face him, a slow smile spreading over his face. "I want you."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rules of Engagement: Advance

"...nearly surrounded by the enemy infantry, sir."

"Order the second cavalry division to intercept, splitting their forces at the river and attacking on either side," Albert murmured, eyes scanning over the field.

"Sir, Bishop Cavell's infantry is requesting reinforcements."

"They can hold out for another hour or two, until the fourth archers division can break away from the fight at the river. Send word to Marcus to go to his aid, but NOT before they have dealt with the remains of that infantry unit."

"Sir! The Blue and Silver companies have been completely lost to the enemy."

"Pull back the Red and Gold to the east. Have them join forces to pin down that knot of archers."

"Yes, sir."

The messenger hurried off, and for a moment, Albert Silverberg was left to contemplate exactly how this battle had gone to hell so quickly. The Grasslanders had been far more prepared than his intelligence had indicated, with more men than anticipated. His resources were dwindling fast, the morale dropping with every lost division. The pleas for aid from the units were becoming more and more desperate on several fronts, and he could plainly see that several of them would be lost within the next hour.

"You're losing, Silverberg."

Albert snorted, not raising his eyes from the melee below until a moment later, when the voice registered. The black-clad shadow standing behind him might as well have materialized out of thin air. "Yuber."

Albert turned his eyes back to the battlefield, recalculating. If Yuber were to attack with his customary ferocity THERE, and strike to the east, it would ease pressure on the second archer division, which could then aid Red and White in sweeping to the north....

He didn't know where Yuber'd been or when he'd gotten back, but he didn't really care. Albert gestured. "Could you remove that unit, if you picked up the remains of the Second Infantry on the way?"

Yuber glanced casually out at the battlefield. "I could. I don't know if I feel like it, though." He stretched, lazily, yawning. "Just had lunch, you know. Wouldn't want to exert myself too soon after."

Albert stared at him, eyes narrowed. Yuber never gave up a chance at battle. That, obviously, wasn't what this was about. He gritted his teeth. "What do you want? And you've picked a damned bad time to renegotiate, by the way."

"On the contrary. Since I'm the only one who can save this sorry excuse for a battle, I think it's the perfect time." Yuber turned to face him, a slow smile spreading over his face. "I want you."

Albert stared at him for a good five seconds. "What?"

"I want you." He stepped closer, until he was within arm's reach, but only cocked his head to look at Albert, eyes sweeping down Albert's body like a man appraising a cut of meat. "I want to see what you keep under that coat of yours. Sex, Silverberg."

"Have you lost what passes for your mind?"

Another messenger panted as she climbed the small ridge on which they stood, holding her bloodied side. "Sir...the infantry...led by Bishop Cavell...has been lost...."

Albert didn't even have time to curse before Yuber added lightly, "And you're about to have your escape route cut off." He nodded his head towards the rear of the battlefield, where indeed the Grasslanders were making a push to encircle them. Without reinforcements or a turn in the tides, even a retreat was going to be impossible.

Albert gritted his teeth and glared at Yuber, who just smiled pleasantly, looking completely unconcerned, rocking slightly back and forth on his feet. "One hour."

Yuber snorted and turned, walking away. "Not even worth my time."

"Wait!" Albert hated that he could hear the desperation in his voice, and knew that Yuber could hear it too, damn him.

Yuber stopped, tilting his head and waiting, but not looking back. "One night, Silverberg. Sundown to sunrise." He turned his head, regarding Albert with one amused silver eye. "And don't plan on getting any sleep."

"No blood, and you don't kill me."

Yuber sighed. "You are no fun. Fine."

"Fine. Just go."

Yuber's only response was a chuckle, and he was off, a dark streak against the dirt, twin streaks of silver slicing out to cut down anyone fool enough to get in his way.

Albert watched, tense, for several minutes, until Yuber started raising the bodies of his kills, and the Grasslanders' formation started to break up under the onslaught. Only when the encircling units paused, indecisive, then turned back to join the main fight, did he begin to breathe easy.

And to wonder, in the back of his mind, exactly what the hell he'd gotten himself into.

********  
Silence descends on the baths as he strolls in, ripples through the Harmonian soldiers like waves as the men glance at him curiously, a quick few whispering to their fellows.

"...Black Knight...see him today?....amazing...turned the tide...."

If he's bothered by the silence or he whispers that follow, or even notices, he makes no sign, whistling a jaunty tune as he moves to the shelves next to the tubs. The battle is still on him, a spray of blood over one cheek,and gore matting the last foot of his braid. The furtive glances at the legendary warrior turn a bit startled when he peels off his clothes to reveal red-tinged skin, and they realize that his black clothing has been hiding the fact that it's soaked through with blood.

"...wears no armor...just fucking dances out of the way...fast as hell...."

He turns, hands unweaving the long braid, and seems to take no notice of the way the soldiers move out of his way to hug the walls of the bathhouse, half-respectful, half-wary. Some, remembering tales handed down from generations before about the Black Knight, the Chaosbearer, the Bringer of Death, make signs of warding behind his back.

He climbs into the nearest tub, now conspicuously empty, and slides under the water completely before surfacing to scrub at skin and hair. The water turns dark pink before swirling and running clear, the scent of iron heavy in the wet air.

"...could hear him laughing...cut them down like wheat...."

The soldiers turn away, to their own bathing, casting only occasional glances at him. Most notice, though, out of the corner of their eyes, something indefinably odd about his skin. As he climbs out of the tub and towels himself off, man by man the respectful silence turns shocked as they realize what they're seeing.

Every one of them carries his own scars: rough-edged and white from natural healing or the translucent sheen of scar tissue over nearly-normal skin from magical healing. One or two scars, half a dozen, even a dozen or so for the oldest, most grizzled veteran among them. Badges of pride worn on the canvas of their skin, testament to skill and luck and survival.

His skin from the neck down has an odd, hazy quality. Over back and shoulders, arms, chest, legs: hundreds of scars, thousands, all the soft sheen of magical healing. Some of the soldiers forget themselves. Fresh from the battlefield, they can imagine the wounds that caused those scars, and can only stare at the impossibility of a lifetime's, a thousand lifetimes' injuries etched into the skin of a body young enough to be a green recruit.

"...see that?...impossible...heard the rumors?...they say he's..."

Their eyes hastily look elsewhere when he tosses the towel to the side and pulls on fresh clothes. He walks out, still not acknowledging any of them, a bawdy song whistled in tune trailing after him.

"...*demon*...."

Yuber smiles up at the sun dipping behind the houses and goes in search of his payment.

*********

*His interest in me has always seemed vaguely sexual. I would have been a fool to not notice. But his innuendo was always just that, jesting and easily turned aside. I never thought that he would seek to pursue me in this manner and am not quite sure what to make of it. He has aided me (always with a price, of course. Paid in others' blood, but a price nonetheless) more than I expected and proven almost trustworthy several times. However, I have always taken pains to maintain a professional working relationship with him. This certainly goes beyond professional interest. I worry that he will take it as some permanent victory, a tilting of the balance of our alliance to his favor....*

Albert paused to look at what he'd written, then scowled and slammed the book shut, his pen scattering tiny droplets of ink on the desk as he threw it down. He stood, and walked to the window, eyes on the sun as it began to dip below the horizon. Idly, he wondered exactly what Yuber counted as "sundown". When the sun touched the horizon? When it had slipped fully beneath it? There was no guarantee, even, that he'd come tonight. He had bargained for a night, but not specified which night he would take.

*I wouldn't put it past him in the least to string this out as long as possible, just to annoy me.*

Even that irritated thought couldn't distract him, and Albert forced his breathing into slow, measured breaths, calming himself. He turned and looked back at his journal on the desk, wishing for once that he was keeping the thing more for himself than for posterity. He could write that he was worried about this little bargain changing the balance of power between them, about Yuber taking this as more than it was, about just what exactly Yuber meant or hoped to gain by it, and all of those were true, but....

He couldn't exactly write that he was afraid.

He had berated himself all through the march back to town, whenever he'd found himself dwelling on that. There was little reason to be afraid. Yuber enjoyed their odd alliance too much to ruin it beyond repair. And Albert had bargained that Yuber would draw no blood and not kill him, after all. He was well aware, though, that there were many things that Yuber could do to him that did not include either of those. He would have added "no pain", too, but he thought that that would have been pushing it. Asking Yuber not to cut him was quite demanding already.

And somehow, the thought that without Yuber's aid, he would likely be dead or captured by the enemy did not comfort him. *Calm yourself,* he thought, eyes closed, forcing his breathing to slow again, forcing his mind to abandon its wild, lurid speculations about what would happen and quiet itself. *Calm. You know him. You can anticipate his actions and turn them to your advantage. Be steadfast. As unpleasant as this is likely to be, it is only one night.*

He opened his eyes to the sound of the door opening behind him. He didn't turn. *Do not let him see your fear. It will only entice him.* "I am certain that I locked that door."

Yuber's voice was a bit more hoarse than usual, no doubt roughened by the shouting he'd done on the battlefield. He chuckled. "If you think that I'll let a locked door get between me and my prize tonight, you are sorely mistaken."

Albert turned and was slightly surprised to see that Yuber had apparently come from the bath. His hat was gone, and as he turned slightly to close the door Albert could see that his hair was loose and damp and startlingly pale against the black of his coat. It occurred to him that without his hat and braid, that this was much how Yuber had looked in Albert's grandfather's time.

"I suppose I should be thankful you didn't come still covered in blood," Albert remarked.

Yuber's smile wasn't completely pleasant as he turned the key in the door. "Oh, I didn't want to break the terms of the agreement."

"What do you mean?"

Yuber paced towards him lazily. "If I came to you still filled with the smell of blood and the cries of the dying, you'd be lucky to escape alive, Silverberg...." He turned around Albert's side, turning his head to purr into Albert's ear as he moved behind him, "...let alone unbloodied."

Albert stood stock still, eyes staring straight ahead. When one of Yuber's arms slid around his waist like a band of iron and the other reached up to stroke the side of his neck, he wondered if this was what it felt like to have a wild animal at one's throat. *Calm....calm....*

Yuber pressed his lips, warmer than Albert had expected, over Albert's shoulder, against the side of his throat, near the collarbone. His hair slid over Albert's shoulder in a long fall of wet silk, startling him.

"You are frightened." It wasn't a question, and Yuber's voice, surprisingly, wasn't mocking, either.

It was, however, closer than it'd ever been.

Albert murmured, "Only a fool has no fear."

Yuber's head lifted and tilted, and Albert could tell out of the corner of his eye that Yuber was looking at him. "Do you think I'm going to hurt you?"

Albert turned to look at him, their eyes very, very close. "Aren't you?" He could feel Yuber's laughter against his back.

"Oh yes, but that's not the point."

"What is the point?"

"It doesn't take any finesse to cause pain, Silverberg. Any idiot can do that. If I just wanted someone to bleed and fuck and scream for me, I could have picked any of the countless sheep out there. They're barely worth my time. Boring." Yuber's arm lifted from around his waist, hand moving to the front of Albert's coat, undoing buttons with alarming dexterity. Albert didn't have time to be alarmed, though, before Yuber's mouth was on him, biting down hard into the muscle where his neck met his shoulder. He gasped, stiffening, a protest on his lips, until he realized that the pain wasn't increasing and that Yuber probably wasn't drawing blood. He shivered as Yuber pulled away, his mouth moving to lick along the bite. His breath--warm, hot, and now Albert could tell even through two sets of clothes that Yuber was putting off heat like a stove, like a bonfire clothed in flesh--slid over Albert's shoulder. "Making you *enjoy* the pain, though, makes the game more interesting."

And, at the first demanding touch of hot fingers to his chest, Albert Silverberg began to think that he'd gravely miscalculated what Yuber wanted.

Those hot hands delved inside, running greedy palms over his chest before shrugging him out of shirt and coat like a man shucking a corncob, and Albert found himself, quite abruptly, standing naked from the waist up. Yuber kicked the clothes off to the side. "I hate that coat of yours. You wear the damn thing like armor." Albert closed his eyes as Yuber pulled him back against him again, the buttons of his coat cool against Albert's bare back as Yuber's hands stroked down his arms, over his chest and stomach. "A shame to cover up all of this, too. Nice to see that all that sitting around doesn't turn you into a complete sow. Really, quite nice, Silverberg."

Albert opened his mouth to make a snide comment, and yelped in surprise when Yuber's fingers found his nipples and twisted hard. He tried to turn around and stopped when Yuber didn't let go of the nipples in question. He settled for turning his head to glare. Yuber just smiled and did it again, slower this time, which made it all the worse. Albert faced forward again, gritting his teeth until Yuber's fingers relented, rubbing almost gently. Albert couldn't help the tightening of the little bits of flesh anymore than he could help the flush that he could feel spreading up his neck.

Yuber's voice was close against his ear again as he nosed into Albert's hair. "You react like a virgin, Silverberg."

Albert didn't want to think too closely about how Yuber might know how a virgin reacts. The thought was positively obscene.

"Though I doubt you are. I imagine even nerdy bookworms have to raise their heads during puberty and rut with *something*, hmmm? Or were you the type to just hump your hand under the sheets at night, too busy to even go to the trouble of finding someone else to fuck? Hmmm?" This last was punctuated with another twist of over-sensitive flesh.

Albert tried not to jump and ended up growling, "You talk too much."

Lips brushed hot against the back of his neck as Yuber's fingers scratched down Albert's stomach, attacking the buttons of his pants with a lazy sort of ferocity. "Mm? I could dispense with the talking, you know. Get right to spreading you out on that bed and fucking you raw. I thought you would appreciate a bit of foreplay first."

Albert could hear the smile in his voice. The bastard was *playing* with him. But then Yuber's fingers were drawing him out of his pants, and he choked on the beginning of his angry retort.

Yuber's voice was smug. "Finally, I've found a way to shut you up. All I have to do is *this*...."

Albert's breath stuttered, and he swallowed a moan as Yuber squeezed, one knuckle sliding over the tip.

"Oh, let it out, Silverberg. It's not like you're fooling anyone." Yuber's voice was low, almost a whisper. "You like this."

Albert shook his head, even as he struggled with his body, berating it not to give in to simple pleasure, to remember why exactly this was a bad idea.

"No lying, Silverberg. *This* doesn't lie." This time, Albert couldn't help the choked moan in his throat as Yuber's hand tightened almost painfully around his half-hard cock. "That pretty mouth of yours can tell as many lies as you want, but your body can't lie to me."

Yuber's hand snaked up into Albert's hair, turning his head forcibly so his mouth could slant down on Albert's in a hard kiss, his tongue spearing between Albert's lips like an invading army, taking everything that it could while his hand stroked knowingly over Albert's sex.

Albert, unable to stop either advance, only stood there, caught against Yuber's chest, and shook, silently, his mouth full of Yuber's taste of wine and salt and steel.

Yuber's mouth released him after a long moment, to move down to the bitemark he'd left before, setting his teeth against it again. "Let go, Silverberg. Let yourself enjoy it."

"You just...want me to lower my guard."

Yuber laughed. "Of course. Or would you rather I make sure you don't enjoy it?" He bit down into his teethmarks from earlier, slowly, until Albert made a sound of protest. "Screams of pain are just as sweet, and I guarantee I can make you scream without drawing blood...."

A part of Albert's mind wanted to say yes, that then at least he wouldn't forget what Yuber was, what he was capable of, but the rest of him overruled that as foolish. He had no defenses this night, not even words. He'd already bargained away his right to protest, as long as Yuber kept to his conditions. Nothing had changed since Yuber had walked in: he was still bound by his word until sunrise. And if Yuber was amused enough to actually attempt to make him enjoy this...it would be wise to try and pass the night in pleasure rather than pain, surely....

Albert shook his head, slowly.

Yuber pulled back, and Albert could see his smile out of the corner of his eye. "Fine. Now...." He stepped back, letting go of Albert, and Albert almost fell from the sudden lack of heat and stroking hands. Yuber grinned, mismatched eyes raking down Albert's body as his hands went to his own buttons. "Strip. And get on the bed."

Albert did, stepping out of his pants and backing up onto the bed, eyes on Yuber the whole time. His wariness must have shown on his face. "Relax, Silverberg. It's not like you could do anything about it if I DID decide to rape you."

Albert frowned at him, sitting on his heels. "That's supposed to make me relax?"

Yuber sighed, dramatically, as he threw his coat in the direction of a chair. "You don't trust me. How sad. I saved your life today, after all."

"Oh yes, a purely altruistic gesture." The sarcasm in Albert's voice could have been cut with a knife. He forced his eyes to stay on Yuber's face as the man undressed.

"Oh, but it *was*." Yuber left his pants in a huddle on the floor and stalked, without a trace of self-consciousness, to the bed, his eyes fierce enough to make Albert shift back away from him uneasily. He flowed down to crawl on the bed with an animal grace, and the only thing that kept Albert from backing away even more was the play of light over Yuber's skin, distracting him while Yuber leaned in to nuzzle at his neck again.

Without truly thinking about what he was doing, Albert traced a finger over a wide, hazy scar across Yuber's shoulder. "Are these scars that your Rune has healed?"

Yuber, for just a second, froze, in anger or perhaps surprise.

"What?" Albert pulled his hand back hastily.

Yuber, though, shook himself and grabbed Albert's hand, replacing it on his shoulder, growling, "Don't stop. And yes."

"I wouldn't have expected your Rune to have healing properties." Cautiously, Albert ran his fingers, then his hand, over Yuber's shoulder and down his back. The skin beneath his palm was warm, almost feverish-feeling.

Yuber fairly arched under the touch, a contented smile on his lips. "The damned thing likes me, wants to keep me around. It does what it wants."

He shrugged, and Albert could feel hard muscle moving under his hand. His eyes, for the first time, tracked along Yuber's shoulder to his arm, down his side and chest. His pale skin, even with the faint scars, was nonetheless soft and smooth, like well-worn stone. Albert could see that Yuber was little more than bone and taut muscle, lean and compact in a way that allowed him to hide his strength under his clothes or armor.

Yuber chuckled, and Albert found mismatched eyes regarding him amusedly through a fall of blonde hair. "Like what you see, Silverberg?" Smiling, he moved back enough to stretch his arms up provocatively, the muscles in his torso rippling slightly.

Albert held his eyes, his hands slipping down to the coverlet. "You know I do." As Yuber had pointed out, Albert's body couldn't lie.

"I said, don't stop." Yuber leaned in, again taking Albert's hands and putting them on his skin before leaning in further, to push Albert onto his back, his mouth closing over the strategist's with a purpose. Yuber kissed like he fought, a small part of Albert's mind analyzed: a swift, overwhelming strike, then a fierce, concentrated attack. Albert never would have thought that a kiss, a simple movement of tongue and lips and teeth, could be so distracting.

When Yuber growled, though, and bit his bottom lip sharply, Albert remembered that he was supposed to be touching. At least, that's what he thought that meant, and a slide of his palms over Yuber's ribs earned him a pleased noise and a thumbing of one still-sensitive nipple.

The thought that a simple touch could make Yuber purr reassured Albert. Just a bit. And when Yuber's knee pushed between Albert's legs, he yielded, letting Yuber settle himself between his thighs, the kiss breaking as Yuber's mouth left a trail of nips down Albert's neck. And if his skin was hot, his mouth was *searing* against Albert's flesh, enough to make him cry out when it engulfed one nipple, then the other. His hands moved restlessly over Yuber's back, tangling in the long blonde hair that fell about him like a veil, clutching at the back of Yuber's neck, though he wouldn't even have been able to say whether he was trying to push him away or pull him closer.

Yuber shifted, trailing down to press his lips to the sensitive skin of Albert's inner thigh. He bit, gently, then sucked over the bite hard, smiling at the mark, then set about making a mate to it, then another, pointedly ignoring the erection inches away.

After five minutes, Albert shifted his hips, propping himself up to glare down at Yuber.

Yuber looked up at him, innocently. Or at least as innocent as one can look between another man's legs. "Something you want, Silverberg?"

"You know damned well what I want," Albert growled.

"You're right." Yuber licked, teasingly, over Albert's balls. "I want to hear you say it."

"Why?"

Yuber shook his head, crawling up Albert's body and shoving him back down on the bed again, his own erection pressed hard to Albert's, making Albert groan. His breath rasped against Albert's ear. "Because you're an ice cube, Silverberg. Always thinking you're in control, never having to beg, always manipulating everyone to make what you want fall into your lap. Beautifully arrogant. But not now. No control, Silverberg, none at all. And nothing to bargain with. Everything I want right now is right...in...my...hands--" Each word was punctuated with a hard squeeze and slide of fingers over Albert's sex. "Do you know what I want, Silverberg?"

Albert shuddered, knowing the truth in Yuber's words. He shook his head.

"I want to see you stripped and tied, laid out for me. I want to bite down hard enough to make you scream and bleed, take a blade to you and lick the blood from your skin. You haven't *lived*, Silverberg, until you've tasted death a hairsbreadth away from your throat. You're soft, unfinished, too confident in your own intelligence, in your own control of everything around you." Yuber pulled back to look in Albert's eyes, his hands pinning his shoulders to the bed. "You have potential, Silverberg. But you will break under a good hard blow unless you learn to bend. I want to show you, break some of that pride that you wear like armor." Yuber smiled, not completely pleasantly. "And learn what you taste like, and how loud I can make you scream, and how hard I can make you come. And maybe you'll break along the way and maybe you won't. Either way, it'll be worth my time. But!" Yuber settled on Albert's chest, his hands folded under his chin. "Right now, I'll settle for hearing you beg."

Albert stared at him, his mind too fogged to process much of Yuber's ramble. "And if I won't?"

Yuber smiled, his hips shifting lazily against Albert's. "You will."

"You're...ah!...very sure of yourself."

"Oh, yes." Yuber's fingers slid down his body, sliding between his legs again, not teasing this time, but wrapping him in a grip like velvet over steel (*no calluses* Albert's mind prompted, irrationally *why doesn't he have any calluses...?*) and stroking hard and fast, until all Albert could do was pant and moan and arch off the bed into that fist. Of course, though, his strokes slowed as soon as Albert started writhing. "See?"

"Bastard...."

"Mmmhmm." Yuber's voice was deceptively sleepy. "Beg for me, Silverberg. Beg for me, and I'll make you scream. Or, I can keep this up all night. Can you...?" He ran the knuckles of his other hand up and under, stroking hard over the smooth skin behind Albert's sac, and Albert could all but feel the connection between his brain and his mouth disintegrating.

"Please...."

"What was that, Silverberg? I couldn't hear you."

"Please." Albert arched up again as Yuber bit down on one nipple, pain mixing with pleasure and making something wholly new. "Please...please...."

Yuber growled, or perhaps purred, and suddenly Albert found himself flipped onto his stomach, Yuber pulling his lower half up to his knees. Albert had a moment to realize what his ass-up position meant, but not enough time to tense before something warm and slick trickled between his buttocks. "See?" Yuber purred, "I can be a kind master." Hot fingers gathered the oil, rubbing and probing only briefly before plunging in.

Even half-relaxed as he was, Albert panted as he was penetrated, trying to force his body to relax.

"Tight," Yuber hissed. "Been awhile, Silverberg? Or maybe you're a virgin after all? Now that *would* be a treat, oh say it's so, please please please...."

Albert managed to gather his wits enough to wrap his arms around a pillow. He shook his head. "No. Just...been a long---aaah!" His entire body bowed with the pleasure as Yuber's fingers found his prostate and stroked it roughly.

"Ah, well. Can't have everything." The fingers retreated, and Albert barely had time to take a breath before he was being thrust into, hard.

Yuber fucked like he fought, too: swift and merciless, each thrust jarring through Albert's entire body, pain spiked with pleasure, hard and fast and enough to make him muffle his cries in the pillow, lest he wake everyone else in the inn. Yuber's voice ran over him like velvet, obscene little whispers and murmurs of how he felt and looked and tasted, of the things he wanted to do to him. Hot hands were everywhere, scratching and pinching, and finally deigning to wrap around Albert's cock, working him hard with the thrusts that slammed into his ass. Albert's orgasm took him without warning, a hot, boiling thing that sent him screaming into the sheets as his seed splashed over his belly and Yuber's fist.

Yuber's hands clutched at Albert's hips, pistoning into him for another moment before slamming in to the hilt with a growl.

A long, panting couple of moments passed, until Yuber leaned down and folded his arms on Albert's back companionably. "Not bad, Silverberg." He licked a long line up Albert's spine. "For a start, at least."

Albert, still shivering, decided that the words "long night" would be an understatement.

**********

Albert woke with a groggy sort of start, exhaustion still pulling at him. He blinked a few times before the blurs of movement resolved themselves into Yuber, whistling as he dressed, in the middle of the room. Albert rubbed a hand over his face, eyes going to the window. Beyond the glass, the sky was lightening.

"Dawn, Silverberg! You're free of my evil clutches. And all the other evil parts of me, for that matter." Yuber sounded altogether too cheerful. Albert knew for a fact that he hadn't gotten any more sleep than Albert himself had, and Albert had only been allowed an hour or two's doze. As he shifted, he could feel muscles trembling in protest, myriad pains from bites and bruises. Everything seemed to hurt much more now that he was not...otherwise occupied. The thought made the night flash before his eyes, in lurid, pain-and-pleasure-stroked detail. *I've whored myself out to a demon to save my life and my reputation.* Somehow, Albert couldn't feel much shame about that.

Lost in his own dazed thoughts, Albert didn't realize that Yuber had sat on the bed until warm fingers wrapped around his jaw and lifted his chin. In the near-darkness, Yuber's eyes almost looked the same color. "Did you enjoy it, Silverberg?"

Albert managed to dredge up enough pride to toss his head out of Yuber's hand. Yuber let him go, continuing as if nothing had happened. "I know you did. Why won't you admit it?"

"It is after dawn," Albert said, reaching to pull the blankets up. "I no longer have to answer to you."

Snake-quick, his arm was captured at the wrist and yanked up. "You're right. It IS after dawn. That means that I can bleed you again." Silver flashed in the darkness. Yuber's blade was so sharp that he didn't even know he'd been cut until Yuber's tongue slid along the cut.

Albert hissed at the sting, but could tell from the feel that Yuber must have only nicked him. "Bastard!"

"Mmmm...." With a final sucking bite, Yuber dropped his wrist, his hands diving in to pull Albert's head forward into a hard kiss against already-bruised lips. Albert struggled but couldn't extricate himself. "Mmm...," Yuber purred, finally, one hand stroking over Albert's cheek. "So sweet. Your blood and your body and your screams. Your death will be sweet, too, someday. I just know it." He kissed Albert's lips once more, lingering almost gently, his words ghosting over Albert's skin. "Let me know if you need any more help, Silverberg."

A grin, a movement of black-on-black, the spill of light growing and receding from the door to his room, and Albert was alone.

He laid there for a long time, watching the sun rise over the buildings. When he fell asleep, he dreamt of blonde hair and flashing steel in a black-gloved hand and the taste of blood.

~End


End file.
